


Til Death Do Us Part

by Cherienymphe



Series: Mafias, Mobs, and Bikers [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: After your arranged marriage has served its purpose, you bring up the inevitable topic of divorce. It is only then do you realize that you and your husband might not be on the same page.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Mafias, Mobs, and Bikers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116857
Comments: 3
Kudos: 90





	Til Death Do Us Part

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity, alluded to Mafia!Bucky, arranged marriage

You hummed as the Keurig made that annoying almost growling noise you hated, but it signaled that your coffee was done so you supposed you couldn’t hate it too much. When you turned it off, the only noise in the otherwise quiet kitchen was the sound of your spoon hitting the mug as you stirred. Truth be told, it was the only sound in the entire mansion.

Bucky was upstairs, in his office, doing God knows what. You didn’t make it your business to put your nose in the details of _his_ business. At one point it might have mattered to you, in the beginning – like the first week of your marriage beginning– but you had long moved past that. You pursed your lips as your thoughts ran rampant, confusion and impatience starring in them.

You took a sip of your coffee and glanced upwards towards the ceiling. The inevitable conversation to be had had been weighing on your mind for weeks. You and Bucky hardly talked, husband and wife in name only, but you figured that now was as good a time as any. With a sigh, you glided out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs.

The house you lived in was obnoxiously grand and much too ostentatious for your tastes, but you’d known what kind of life you were marrying into when you walked down the aisle. You’d known when your parents had told you his name, it all having been arranged for you without your consent or knowledge. For a year you’d lived a life that made you just a bit uncomfortable. Jewels, fancy parties, private jets, etc. It just wasn’t for you, never had been despite growing up around that. It didn’t matter now though. Soon you’d be free of it.

You knocked on his office door without hesitation. Despite your loveless marriage, Bucky was never cruel to you, just indifferent, and you were the same. Anyone else would have been worried to disturb him but considering the two of you talked _maybe_ once a week, you knew he’d be more curious than anything else as to why you were seeking him out. Although, there was really only one reason and you were positive he’d been expecting you at some point.

“Come in,” his gruff voice carried through the wood.

You strode inside with a small smile. He didn’t return it, but that wasn’t unusual. He hardly ever smiled. You found yourself frowning a bit as you registered the slight confusion on his face.

“Hey. Sorry to disturb you…”

“No, it’s fine. Sit down,” he softly replied, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

You settled in, fingers trailing over your mug.

“I didn’t think to bring you a cup,” you suddenly said, apologetic.

“It’s fine,” he waved you off, pushing whatever he was working on to the side. “What’s the matter?”

You cleared your throat, sitting up straight, and his eyes narrowed at you.

“I… I just thought I’d- _we’d_ address the elephant in the room.”

His brows furrowed, and he dropped his pen on the desk before leaning back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.

“What are you talking about?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, Bucky. I’m talking about the ‘D’ word here,” you chuckled.

His expression did not change, and you found yourself getting irritated with him, something you hardly ever did. You didn’t hold in your scoff, and you took a sip of coffee before continuing.

“Divorce,” you deadpanned.

His blue eyes widened, and his face fell as he registered your response. You were confused yourself now as you watched him hastily sit up, leaning on his desk as he stared you down.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

A sinking feeling festered in your gut, and it was beginning to hit you that maybe you two weren’t on the same page after all.

“Oh,” you quietly murmured as you looked down.

“Y/N, what the hell are you talking about?”

Your eyes met his as your shoulders sagged.

“Bucky, this marriage was arranged in every way a marriage could be, purely so you could inherit your grandfather’s money. He passed two months ago, so I thought the topic of divorce was coming any day now,” you told him, speaking as if you were talking to a child.

He merely blinked at you, so you continued.

“From the beginning I knew that this marriage had a purpose, and while I might have hoped it would be something more, I learned fairly quickly that we were both just…waiting it out…”

He finally moved, rising to step around his desk and sit on the edge of it, facing you. He pressed his hands into the mahogany as he shook his head.

“That’s…that’s not…,” his words died off as his frown deepened, something in his eyes that you couldn’t name yet.

“We’re husband and wife in name only. Its only true on paper,” you chuckled. “In the entire year that we’ve been married, we have never slept together. The only time you kiss or even touch me is when we’re at some event with hundreds of eyes watching our every move.”

His shoulders sagged too as he looked at you. You smiled at him.

“I don’t blame you for anything you may have done outside of our marriage. I don’t care,” you honestly told him with a shrug.

His face pinched at that, and you watched his jaw tick as his eyes narrowed.

“Why not? Have _you_ been doing anything outside of our marriage?” he demanded.

You reared back at his harsh tone, never having been on the receiving end of it.

“No,” you scoffed. “…because our marriage is a _farce_. I don’t feel like your wife in any way, shape, or form. Not even close! I don’t feel like you’re mine just as I’m sure you don’t feel like I’m yours. We’re two strangers who live together, so I couldn’t care less about what you do and who you’re doing it with.”

You stood.

“We were both just biding our time. Besides, your family went through a great deal of trouble to make sure you married a virgin, so I wasn’t just going to sleep with any man that smiled at me if that’s what you were thinking. It never mattered much to me before, but I do still at least have the chance to make sure it’s with someone I love. I suppose I can thank you for that,” you whispered.

He was quiet, and while this wasn’t out of character for him, this silence felt different. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I…I really thought we were on the same page-.”

“No…we are. We are,” he said with a nod.

He held your gaze, and you finally placed that look in his eyes. It was a look of realization, as if you were pointing something out to him that he’d never noticed before.

“You…are absolutely right. About everything,” he breathed.

“I really am sorry for springing this on you-.”

“You didn’t,” he quietly interrupted. “You’re right. It was a conversation that needed to be had.”

You nodded, and an awkward silence descended over his office as you two eyed each other.

“If it’s any consolation, you were a good husband,” you told him.

The corner of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly.

“I mean it. You were always nice to me, and I mean, look where I am,” you gestured around. “I’ve never had to want for anything, and you never demanded of me what husbands expect from their wives. Not once in an entire year, and I’m grateful for that.”

He swallowed, nodding.

“I’ll draw up the paperwork,” he said as you turned away.

“Alright.”

He called your name when your hand was on the door, and you looked over your shoulder at him.

“There’s an event I need to attend tonight,” he suddenly said.

“Okay,” you sighed. “What’s the attire? Anything I should wear in particular?”

He eyed you, blue eyes darkening in a way you’d never seen before.

“Wear the green one,” he eventually murmured. “You always look great in that.”

You eyed him for a bit with a frown before eventually throwing him a small smile.

“Will do,” you chirped before closing the door behind you.

  


The expensive emerald fabric clung to you like a second skin, and you smoothed your hand down it for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. Bucky pressed his fingers into your waist, pulling you closer as his lips grazed your ear.

“You look wonderful. Stop it,” he quietly admonished.

“You know I’m not fond of these soirees. Nothing more than a dick measuring contest,” you scoffed.

You felt his eyes on you, but you were busy looking around. The only upside to these events was reuniting with Nakia and Pepper. Occasionally Nat would be here too, but that was rare. Nat never did anything she didn’t want to do, and this wasn’t really her thing either.

“Looking for someone?”

You turned towards your husband, finding his blue eyes entirely focused on you. His tone was…odd, but you shrugged it off.

“Just Pepper or Nakia. I usually meet up with them whenever you’re off with Steve and Thor and whomever else,” you distractedly answered, smiling over his shoulder as you spotted familiar auburn hair.

You pulled away from him and briefly laid your hand on his arm as you moved to go around him, but you were halted when he reached out to grip your wrist. Confused, you turned to look at him and watched as he sent you a small smile, a rare sight.

“Why don’t we stick together for the evening…”

Your brows rose in surprise as your lips parted, at a loss for words.

“Uh…sure. Okay,” you slowly replied.

He pulled you closer, and your eyes widened. You glanced down when he started to rub circles into your wrist with his thumb.

“I just…really want to enjoy your company tonight,” he explained.

You finally shook yourself out of your stupor, chuckling.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Bucky. I was just…a little surprised is all,” you said, allowing him to pull you along.

The grand building was full of people with money and impure intentions, networking, scheming, or looking for a bedfellow for the night. You smiled politely whenever your eyes connected with someone else’s, unsure if you’d ever get used to the constant stares that always followed your husband, and for the past year, you as well.

However, you felt a genuine smile creep along your lips when you spotted familiar blond hair. An equally familiar blond was standing next to him, his booming laughter reaching your ears. They were chatting amongst themselves, waiting for Bucky no doubt. Steve was facing the two of you, and his smile widened when his eyes met yours. Thor followed his gaze and jumped to action before Steve did.

“Y/N!”

“Thor,” you greeted when he pulled you into a hug.

“I feel as if it has been ages since I’ve last seen you,” he said as you pulled away.

“I’m pretty sure this is the first time she’s remained at Bucky’s side after getting through the door,” Steve teased as he pulled you into his arms.

You laughed and heard your husband grumble behind you.

“That’s hardly true,” Bucky defended.

His arm returned to its place around your waist when Steve finally let you go. A server passed you carrying a tray of flute glasses, and Bucky reached out to grab two. You sent him a grateful smile as you took it from him, turning away to listen to Thor before he had a chance to return it.

As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in thought more often than not. It wasn’t that Thor or Steve were boring, far from it in fact. Occasionally, you added something of substance to the conversation, pulling laughter from the three men, but all too soon you felt yourself drifting away again.

It was the first time you and Bucky were ever together during one of these soirees, and you wondered what had changed. You felt yourself growing uncomfortable with his close proximity, his body heat mingling with yours, the tightening of his arm around your waist. Downing the rest of your drink, you gradually pulled away. Bucky’s eyes were inquiring when they met yours.

“I just need some air,” you quietly told him, handing him your empty glass before walking away.

It was a warm night, but the air inside felt hotter and stuffier than that of the balcony for some reason. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on the railing as you looked out over the city. You’d grown up here, but the city life was never for you. You hated the noise and the fact that you couldn’t see the stars at night.

After the divorce, you’d move somewhere more remote. Not a backwoods town straight out of a horror movie, but somewhere quaint. Somewhere far away from Bucky’s, and your parents’, lifestyle. You’d probably meet some nice guy with a boring job, but it was what you wanted. You had nothing against your husband, but you didn’t want to end up with someone like him.

You glanced over your shoulder as the noise from inside briefly reached your ears. You smiled at Steve as he closed the door behind him. He had two drinks in his hand, and you shook your head when he offered you one.

“No, thanks. I’m not much of a drinker, and I’ve already had one,” you told him.

He chuckled.

“You and Buck are so different,” he said, standing beside you.

“Well, you know what they say. Opposites attract,” you sarcastically replied.

He didn’t respond right away, but when he did, he took you by surprise.

“Bucky told me about the divorce.”

You looked at him, blinking.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said, looking at you.

You let out a soft chuckle.

“I always knew you two gossiped like school children,” you joked before waving him off. “Trust me, there isn’t anything to be sorry about. I’m sure you know by now that our marriage was hardly real anyway.”

Steve frowned at you, leaning against the railing now.

“How do you mean? I mean, I know it was arranged, but…”

“Then I’m sure you know it was only so he could inherit his grandfather’s money,” you told him.

“Well…yeah, but I’m sure that’s not the _only_ reason,” Steve tried to argue.

You almost pitied Steve. He was such a romantic and was clearly struggling with the knowledge that his best friend’s marriage was a sham.

“Steve,” you spoke like you were talking to a child. “Bucky and I are practically strangers…”

He blinked at you, shoulders sagging a bit.

“You’re kidding,” he whispered.

“No,” you sadly replied, shaking your head. “We’re husband and wife in name only. There’s literally nothing about our relationship that would indicate we’re married.”

“Nothing?” Steve wondered in disbelief.

You shook your head with a small laugh.

“I figured you knew all of the details. Bucky tells you everything…”

“Apparently not,” he mumbled, taking a sip from one of the glasses. “…and you’re…okay?”

There was concern in his eyes when they met yours again, and you threw him a reassuring smile.

“I promise. Since the beginning it was obvious what this really was. His grandfather has passed, and Bucky has his millions,” you said with a shrug. “There’s no reason for us to stay together.”

“This is a lot for me to process,” he whispered, looking dazed. “So…you’re just going to do what? Leave?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “This lifestyle was never for me. I’m not sure where I’ll go yet, but…it’ll be somewhere quiet, I know that.”

“It’s a shame. You grew on me,” he said.

You glanced at him.

“You too…and Thor, and…as much as I hate to admit it…even Loki,” you reluctantly confessed.

Steve laughed.

“He’s such an ass, but he’s the funny kind.”

“Depends on your taste in comedy,” Steve argued.

“Well, _I_ think he’s funny,” you defended.

Steve chuckled into his glass.

“Better not let Buck hear that,” he whispered with a teasing grin.

“What? Why?” you questioned, leaning in.

Before Steve could answer, the noise from inside traveled to you, and you both turned to see Bucky standing in the doorway. His blue eyes flickered between you two before he threw you a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“Ready to go?”

You straightened up.

“Sure,” you said, glancing at Steve. “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“You guys drive safe,” he said. “You should probably let Y/N drive, Buck.”

“Like that will ever happen,” you threw over your shoulder. “Bye!”

Bucky was quiet when you both made it back inside. That wasn’t unusual, but his silence tonight was stifling. It put your nerves on end. Before you could even think to question him, his hand was on your arm. You almost stumbled in your heels as he pulled you along.

“Hey,” you protested, but it was as if he didn’t hear you.

He didn’t wave anyone goodbye on the way out, and he was incredibly short with the valet as soon as you made it outside. When you finally stopped, you attempted to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. You winced and glared at him.

“Bucky,” you called, but he ignored you.

With a huff, you looked away from him as you both waited for his car to be pulled around. It had started to grow cooler, and Bucky’s hand on your arm felt like a heating pad. When the boy finally pulled the car around, your husband wasted no time in dragging you towards the passenger seat. His haste caused you to stumble, and you gasped when your heel broke.

“Bucky-!”

“Get. In,” he harshly interrupted, practically shoving you into the car.

You barely slid your foot inside before he slammed the door. You blinked at it in shock, eventually moving to pull your seatbelt over you. You glared at him when he slid into the driver’s seat, yanking the door out of the valet’s grip to slam it shut.

“What the hell is your problem?” you demanded just as he sped off.

He didn’t reply, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. You stared at him, waiting for an answer, and when it was apparent you weren’t going to get one, you looked away with a huff. The silence in the sporty car was thick and filled with tension. Only, you didn’t know why.

You knew that in a line of work like his, it required Bucky to do certain things or act a certain way. You knew that he wasn’t as docile as he seemed with you, but that was just the thing. You’d never been on the receiving end of it. Not once in your entire year of marriage.

You were the first out of the car when he pulled into your driveway. You clutched your heels in your hand as you stomped into the house, not even bothering to look back. You didn’t hear the door open and close until you were in the kitchen, staring sadly at your ruined shoes. You would love to get them fixed, but Bucky was so wasteful. He’d tell you to toss them and then get you a new pair.

They hit the bottom of the trashcan just as he strode into the kitchen. You barely spared him a glance as you made your way to the fridge. As much money that goes into those useless black-tie events, you’d think they’d be able to provide decent food.

“What…”

You paused at the sound of his voice, turning and looking at him from beneath your lashes.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

You frowned at him before straightening, slamming the fridge shut. His jaw was clenched, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at you, blue eyes the coldest you’d ever seen them.

“Excuse me?”

You were positive you’d heard him wrong. He walked towards you, pressing a hand into the island in the center of the kitchen, staring you down.

“The divorce papers haven’t even been written up yet, and you’re already batting those long lashes at Steve,” he quietly spat.

You reared back in shock, mouth parting as you registered his words and the fact that he was entirely serious. You raised your hands in surrender with a humorless chuckle.

“You’re drunk, and I am not entertaining this,” you said, moving to walk past him.

He yanked you to a stop, and you pushed your arm against his hold, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let go of me,” you demanded.

“Am I wrong?” he sneered, breath reeking of alcohol.

You finally escaped his hold, stumbling into the fridge from the force. Your eyes were wide and filled with confusion as you glared at him.

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

Bucky slammed his mouth shut, staring at you for a painful amount of time before glancing away. He swallowed, jaw ticking as his eyes met yours again.

“I don’t want a divorce,” he quietly admitted.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at him in shock. You must have heard him wrong…you had to… You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you let out a soft disbelieving scoff. You blinked a few times.

“I’m…sorry… _What?_ ”

Bucky’s eyes softened.

“I don’t want a divorce,” he repeated with more confidence this time.

Again, you stared at him in shock, mouth gaping like a fish before shaking yourself out of it. You frowned at him, looking at him as if he’d just grown two heads.

“No,” you cried, shock coloring your tone at his audacity.

He blinked, clearly taken aback.

“What?”

“No,” you firmly repeated, moving to leave the kitchen.

He was suddenly there, hand on your arm and blocking your path.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

You stared at him as if he were crazy before eventually crossing your arms over your chest. Your face was entirely serious.

“Bucky…I’ve wasted an entire year on you,” you deadpanned.

He flinched as if you’d slapped him, brows furrowing.

“I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings or offends you, but…just because I haven’t been miserable, it doesn’t mean that I want to continue with this.”

He didn’t respond so you continued.

“You have what you want. We did our part, and you have your money.”

“I know that…”

“Well then…what is this? What’s happening, right now, because I am extremely confused?”

He reached for you before thinking better of it and pulling his hand back. He looked you over, blue eyes the most emotional you’d ever seen them. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before speaking.

“I… I want to know you. I mean, we’re married, and…I don’t even know you-.”

“You’ve had an entire year to get to know me. An entire year!”

“I know that,” he whispered, looking away.

“Then where the hell is this coming from?”

He opened and closed his mouth, eyes almost desperate as you shook your head at him.

“God, you’re drunk. You are _so_ drunk, right now, and had I known, I never would’ve let you drive home,” you whispered, moving past him. “You could’ve killed someone!”

He followed.

“See, _this_ , this is why you can’t leave,” he frantically whispered, grabbing your hand, and turning you to face him.

You frowned at him.

“You’re nothing like me. You’re not selfish and you care about people and…”

He reached up to cup your face, and you swatted his hands away as you stumbled back.

“Bucky, you’re drunk!”

“That doesn’t change anything! You are still my wife!”

“In name only! In the entire 13 months that we have been married, you’ve hardly looked at me, acknowledged me, hell, you have never even _touched_ me, given any indication that we are a couple! N-now all of a sudden you don’t want me to leave? _Are you kidding me?_ ”

He placed his hands on his hips, staring you down with tears in his eyes, nostrils flaring.

“So…so what? You’re just going to leave me, and then run off with Steve?”

“Oh, my God, not this again,” you groaned, placing your hand on your forehead. “I can’t believe this right now…”

He pointed a finger at you, a dark strand kissing his forehead.

“I saw how he was looking at you! The minute you told him that our marriage wasn’t really a marriage, at all-.”

“You were listening?”

“The _minute_ you told him that, he looked at you entirely different! _You_ are his dream girl,” he mockingly whispered. “You want a nice picket fence in the country with a dog and a cat…”

“Stop it. That is your friend,” you reminded him.

“Who apparently has been eyeing you for a while if it took almost nothing for him to start eye fucking you the minute he realized you were never really mine!”

You reared back, realization hitting you square in the chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “That’s what this is about…isn’t it?”

“No-.”

“It is,” you sneered. “You don’t want me…but…you don’t want anyone else to have me.”

He reached for you, and you stepped back.

“That’s _not_ it. I _do_ want you,” he slowly said.

“Yeah, now,” you scoffed.

“No,” he shook his head. “That’s not…”

“When I came into your office, you were completely taken by surprise… You had never even thought about divorce. Not once,” you said, more to yourself than him.

“Y/N…”

“Did…did you just expect us to continue like this forever?”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“No! Never,” he said, resting his hand on your arm.

“Are you sure? Because that’s…that’s what it’s looking like,” you tearfully said.

Bucky’s eyes were pleading.

“Everything you said to me that day was true. All of it was completely true, but the worst part was that...I had never noticed. I had never paid any attention, but the more you talked, and the more I thought, I realized that you were right, and that somehow, I’d let an entire year just slip by. Hell, even tonight, Steve noticed that we never stick together at those stupid events!”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“How does an entire year just slip by?”

“Y/N…I want us to stay married. I want us to be husband and wife in every sense of the words-.”

“Yeah, now that I want to leave,” you scoffed, pulling away from him. “Now that you’ve run around with God knows who.”

“I never-! Y/N, it isn’t like that,” he said, following you as you made your way towards the stairs.

“Isn’t it?” you threw over your shoulder. “An entire year, you’ve done whatever you want and acted like I don’t exist, and now that divorce is on the table, suddenly, clarity hits you and you want to pay attention to your handy dandy little wife whom you realize has been perfectly waiting around just for you.”

“Y/N!”

“It’s the perfect situation for you.”

You gasped in shock when he gripped your dress, and the sound of tearing fabric hit your ears. You turned to look down at him, eyes meeting his own wide ones before he stared at the fabric in his hand in shock. You looked down at the ruined dress and sighed.

“Y/N,” he whispered, apologetic.

You held your dress together as you turned away from him, ascending the stairs.

“Sleep it off, Bucky.”

“No, not until we resolve this,” he spat, following you.

“There’s nothing to resolve. We’re getting divorced and that’s that,” you said, heading towards your room.

“Y/N!”

“Leave me alone, and go to bed,” you yelled, picking up your pace.

He did the same, and soon you both were running through the hall of the large mansion. He reached out to grip your hair just as you went to turn the corner, and you yelped in pain as he pulled you towards him. He turned you to face him, and you pushed against him.

“Bucky, this isn’t funny,” you cried, pushing him away from you.

He stumbled, but he righted himself with a vengeance, slamming you into the wall. You winced, opening your mouth to talk sense into him when his lips met yours. You yelped against them, eyes wide as he ran his hands over your trembling frame.

“Stop! Bucky, stop,” you begged against his mouth.

He wrapped one arm around you while his other hand gripped your neck.

“I know I never paid attention to you…touched you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but let me touch you now,” he whispered against your lips. “Let me touch you like a husband should.”

His words sparked fear in you, and with reluctance, you bit down on his lip. Hard. He pulled away with a yelp, and you slipped from in between him and the wall, rounding the corner to get to your room. You were in the process of closing the door when he slammed against it. You knew you were no match for him, even while drunk, so you pulled away from the door and let him fall inside.

You ran to the phone as he pushed himself to his feet. You were on the first 1 when he snatched it out of your hand, his other hand gripping the back of your neck. You winced as his fingers dug into the tendons, hurting you.

“Bucky,” you brokenly pleaded.

He walked you towards your bed, and you had no choice but to let him. Your feet knocked into each other, tears skipping down your face, but he didn’t care. He shushed you when you started to sob, shoving you onto the bed. You struggled to catch your breath as you bounced against it. You sat up as he joined you, pushing against him, but he slapped your hands away and pushed you back down.

As drunk as he was, he was quick in getting his pants undone, his free hand dragging up your leg, sliding under your torn dress. You tried to pull his hand away, but he was determined. You pushed against his chest again, but one hand was suddenly tightening around your neck as he settled himself in between your legs.

You were shaking now, sobs wracking your frame as he pressed his lips against yours. He slid his knees underneath your thighs, forcing your legs apart as you felt him grip your underwear, yanking them to the side.

“Bucky-.”

Your last plea was interrupted by your shriek as he forced himself inside of you. He let out a choked moan against your lips, breath shaky as he sheathed himself to the hilt. Pain filled you, and more tears fell. He let go of your neck, one hand pinning a wrist down while the other reached up to brush his thumb over your cheek. His forearm rested beside your head, and he gently shushed you, wiping your face as he stared down at you.

“It’ll pass,” he murmured, chest heaving.

“I h-h-hate you,” you tearfully spat at him.

He sighed, eyes softening, looking as if you’d hurt him.

“That’ll pass too,” he whispered.

You pushed your free hand against his chest, but he simply pressed his forehead into the mattress, completely caging you in before pulling his hips back. It stung, and you whimpered, fingers pressing into his button down as he began to thrust into you. His groans filled your ears, and you turned your head away to stare at the wall.

Bucky didn’t like that.

He let go of your wrist and gripped your chin. Your terrified eyes met his calmer ones as he hovered over you, and he seemed more sober now. He brushed his thumb along your skin as he curled his hips into yours again and again.

“Eyes on me, honey,” he whispered.

You squeezed them shut, and he huffed.

“Come on, doll. Don’t be like that,” he quietly pleaded, picking up his pace.

You refused to open them, more tears slipping out. You heard him sigh and felt his lips brush over your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

You felt like someone was pressing a heating pad in between your legs, and you hated that you liked it.

“I haven’t been treating you right…have I?”

It was taking more effort to keep your eyes shut, and they slowly peeled open. Your vision was blurry, but you could see that his dark hair was brushing along his forehead now, no longer so neat. He kissed you, and your lips trembled.

“I’ve been such a horrible husband. I neglected you,” he whispered, and he sounded pained. “…but all of that’s going to change.”

You didn’t like that you could feel every inch of him as he slid into you, your own body making it easier for him. Although, you suspected that all of it wasn’t just arousal. There was still a dull ache that mingled with the pleasure. His hips stuttered, breath hitching, and your eyes widened. You pressed your hand to his stomach, in hopes to stop him.

“Bucky, you can’t-.”

He swallowed your protests with a kiss, and you grew panicked. You weren’t on anything. You’d never had a reason to be. You were a virgin with regular and bearable periods. There was no need for you to be on any type of birth control. You turned your head away, catching your breath.

“Bucky, stop,” you pleaded, pushing against him. “Please…”

He gripped your hands, pinning them beside your head just as he came inside of you with a groan. You threw your head back, more tears spilling over as he panted above you. He buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling.

“You’re mine, and I promise, I’m going to start acting like it.”


End file.
